1255 Roman Holiday

Friday, May 18, 2007

Until last night, I hadn't seen Roman in a few weeks, and during those few weeks I'd been thinking about some things he'd said, and what they'd meant.

May of last year we were sitting on a bench on the grounds of the Roosevelt mansion, "talking deep", and he said that even if the other woman didn't exist, he and I probably wouldn't work long term, but he wouldn't or couldn't say why.

I sort of agreed with him, but I was thinking about trust issues, and trust problems can be overcome if you're willing to work on them, but I didn't see that happening, so I agreed.

Well, in recent phone conversations, he has said a few things, quite innocent things, that suddenly cast a bright light on the divide between us.

I told him about a house Daughter and Hercules liked, and how the layout wouldn't allow space between them, and how sometimes they need space apart. Roman said, "Well, the rooms have doors, don't they?"

Closing a door hadn't occurred to me, or to Daughter, or to Hercules, and I like that it didn't. Being in two different rooms, at different ends of the house even, is ok, but somehow going into a room and closing the door, shutting the other person out, is unacceptable to us. It's the difference between expecting your partner to respect your space, and shutting your partner out of that space.

I tried to explain it to Roman, and he didn't see a problem. That is a problem. It encapsulates one of the biggest communication problems he and I had -- that he shuts people out, and sees nothing wrong with that.

Last week we were having an ordinary phone conversation when he said something about how when someone he's close to repeatedly does something that annoys him, he just ignores it.

Pow! Realization. He doesn't just ignore it. Some few people can ignore, but not him.

I suddenly realized that he enjoys anger. He likes it. He likes to hold it, and look at it, and tuck it deep inside, so he can take it out again later and fondle it, and taste it, feel it again, and tuck it away again. If he were to address problems in his relationships when they occur, to attempt to understand them and reach some accomodation, he'd have to give up the anger, and he can't.

Knowing a little bit about his life, I sort of understand why it's necessary for him to hold on to anger. He never learned any other outlet, any other way, and that's one of the things he should be most angry about. Anger is his justification, his way to accept himself and his feelings. It's not something he can simply let go of.

And that's the showstopper.

There are so many nice, wonderful, sweet things about him. He's so easy to be with when he's happy. He does try hard to do the right thing. He is a good guy deep down. He is confused about a lot, doesn't know what he wants. Or why. I see that, and that's part of what I love about him.

When he's NOT around, I see the showstopper, and I know that although we can be lifelong friends, I simply cannot deal with or contribute to his anger stockpile, I can't allow him to ignore irritations between us when I know where they're going, what he's doing with them, I will push and prod him until he explodes, and that won't work at all, so friends is all we can be.

Unfortunately, every time I see him, I melt, and I want more.
This is a problem.
.